Wizard, Warden, Champion?
by DrakeShadowFire
Summary: Harry Dresden had died and was ready for What Came Next. Which turned out not to be some type of afterlife but a new life in a different world. Faced with looming war between Mages and the Templars,does Harry have what it take to be a Champion?
1. Chapter 1: No Rest for a Wizard

**Wizard, Warden, Champion?**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dragon Age or The Dresden file. They are rightful the property of Bioware and Jim Butcher.

**Author's note: Normally I won't be doing this as I suck at writing, plus I have bad grammar and spelling. But this idea won't get out of my head, so here we are, with my first attempt at a fanfiction story. If anyone would be so kind as to let me know of any grammar or spelling error, I'll be grateful for the help. Also I will appreciate if a responsible Beta would accept to correct this story. **

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><p>"<em>We live in strange times" Bob said philosophically. "They're peers, of a sort, Harry. Hey, word is that even the Almighty and Lucifer worked a deal on Job. Spider-Man has teamed up with the Sandman before. Luke and Vader did the Emperor. It happens."<em>

"_Spider-Man is pretend and doesn't count," I said._

"_You start drawing distinctions like this now?" Bob asked. "Besides, he's real. Like, somewhere."_

_I blinked. "Um. What?"_

"_You think your universe is the only universe? Harry, come on. Creation, totally freaking huge. Room enough for you and Spider-Man both"._

...

_Bob's eyes widened. "Oh. Oooooohhhhhhhh. Uriel's people—Murphy's dad and so on—did they say anything about your body?"_

"_That it wasn't available," I said._

"_But not that it was gone?" Bob pressed._

"_No," I said. "They . . . they didn't say that."_

. . .

"_. . . but that means that I'm dead right?"_

"_There's a difference between dead and . . . and gone."_

. . .

"_I'm headed for the great beyond and you still won't give me a straight answer" I demanded, smiling._

_Uriel regarded me pleasantly. He said nothing._

"_I tell you what big guy just tell me something, something useful, I'll be happy with every I get" _

_He pursed his lips and thought about it for a moment. Then he said "No matter where you go, there you are" _

_(Excerpts from Ghost Story)_

**Chapter ****1: No Rest for a Wizard_  
><em>**

Given the way my life has typically progressed, I probably should have guessed that What Came Next was pain. A whole lot of pain. I tried to take a breath, and a searing burst of agony radiated out from my chest. I held off on the next breath for as long as I could, but eventually I couldn't put it off anymore, and again fire spread across my chest. I repeated that cycle for several moments, my entire reality consumed by the simple struggle to breathe and to avoid the pain. I was on the losing side of things, and if the pain didn't exactly lessen, it did, eventually, become more bearable. I felt the rest of my body next. Which turned out to be completely naked. I could feel something rough and hard against my skin. I clenched my fingers, but something was wrong with them. They barely moved. It was as though someone had replaced my bones and flesh with lead weights, heavy and inert, and my tendons and muscles were too weak to break the inertia. But I felt hard earth beneath my fingertips.

"Holy Maker that corpse just moved," a startled voice cried.

"Easy Caver, it not an abomination," said an older male voice. "It seem like he's still alive."

"Well then, we can't leave him like this," replied a womanly voice in an older motherly tone. "Caver, dress him with the clothes from the other corpse, I know it's not proper but there's no other choice."

"Sure there's another choice," replied the startled voice from before who must be Caver. "We leave him and continue south."

"We will do no such thing," stated a different woman's voice resolutely. "That traitorous bastard, Loghain left us all to die at Ostagar and I'm will not do the same."

"Come on, stop being a virtuous idiot and start being realistic," raged Caver. "We have to keep moving, there are Darkspawn everywhere. We 're already being slowed down by your wounded templar husband so why burden ourselves with another man who is going to die any second now?"

Darkspawn? What the hell are Darkspawn? Being a wizard; I knew plenty of supernatural entities and creatures. Hell, I could list enough of them to fill out an entire book. But the thing is that the supernatural realms are far bigger, than the material world, and humankind is hugely outnumbered. I could spend a lifetime learning about new beasties and barely scratch the surface.

Time to see what kind of trouble was in now. My eyelids were in the same condition as everything else. They didn't want to move. But I made them. I opened them and cried out weakly at the intensity of the light.

"He sounds quite lively to me," add a young feminine voice.

I waited for a moment, and then tried again to see clearly. Then again. On the four or five hundredth try, I was finally able to see. I was laying down on brown earth of a mountain trail with other corpses strung along it path. I turned my head to look at my audience. It made my head feel like it was about to fly apart every time I twitched it, but I persevered. There were six of them, three men and women. Oh and a dog of some strange breed that bore a similarity to the American Bandogge Mastiff.

The female speaker was good looking, round eighteen years old, with black curls that framed her face and reach down to her bare shoulders. Her eyes were a light golden brown colour and she possessed a pale skin tone. She wore a white corset over the top of sliver long sleeved shirt with matching pants and had brown knee high boot. There was chainmail belted on her back and front that started just below her breasts and ended just before her knees. Around her neck she had tied a red and purple neckerchief. Held in her right hand was what I recognised as a wizards staff.

I met her eyes briefly and she hastily looked away. Judging by the way her face flushed, it was due to my current state of dress, or therefore lack of, that had her look away and not for her fear of triggering a soulgaze.

While I have been in many awkward situations such as being caught by Charity Carpenter having her teenage daughter Molly exiting my hotel room shower or pretending to be my brother Thomas's boyfriend to avoid getting arrested for snooping around his apartment, I had been clothed during them. This however is like that cliché nightmare that everyone has had at one point, where you find with little to no clothes in public and everyone laughing to you. While no one was currently laughing, this being real and not a dream hardly made me feel better.

"Can I please have some clothes before I die of Hypothermia," My tongue didn't work right. My lips didn't, either. The words came out a slushy mumble.

"Well, if that were to happen it would settle this argument and make Caver happy which is rare," joked a young man, who I guessed to be somewhere in his mid twenty's. I judge him to be related to the teenage girl, my guess is an older brother, as he possessed the same colour eyes, hair and skin tone. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way, what with his short wind blow style hair and full beard. He had red tribal paint on face which started under his left eye and continued on in a downward curve that end half way down his right check. He wore grey plated amour on arms, legs and the front of his upper body but not on his back which instead was covered with a thick grey fleece lined small brown jacket. Fixed diagonally to his back was a big double edged two handed sword that was near three quarters his height.

"Sorry if I'm not cheerful at moment, seeing as we are presently homeless refugees fleeing from a horde of monsters," snapped Caver. He was a typical macho teenager. Tall, muscled, and going by the glower on his face, he had an aggressive behaviour. His facial features were similar to the previous man except the eyes were blue in colour and he had no beard. His hair, which was done in a left part style, and skin tone was the same colour as the other two which thanks to highly trained observational skill obtained through years of professional investigation lead me to the conclusion that the three were siblings. Unlike the prior outfits his was relatively simple. Brown pants with match knee high boots and a long sleeveless sand colour over shirt with yellow shoulders and collar. He had too had long double edged two handed sword on his back mirroring his brother.

"All the more reason for you to hurry and clothe him already," retorted one of the other women. She was well muscled in an appealing feminie way. Tied to each of her upper biceps were matching brown leather band. Her hair was orange, done in a loose shoulder length ponytail and used a brown leather headband to keep any hair from falling in front of her face. Her eyes were a pale green with a dusting of faint freckles under them and across her nose. She was dress in light brown pants, knee high brown boots, a white long sleeveless shirt and over that had wore a brown leather no back singlet which had diamond shaped metalled studs woven in at regular intervals. She was armed with a broadsword and a distorted hexagon shape shield that had a symbol of a downward pointing divine sword engraved on it.

"Since you're so intent on saving him, why don't you do it?" Caver snapped back.

"I rather not have my wife perform such a task," answered the last man of the group. He had short black hair with the fringe spiked up and was wear armour that had the same matching sword symbol on his chest plate as the one depicted on the shield his wife carried. He wore a red and black long kilt decorated with star burst symbols that reached his ankles. He also looked sick, as his eyes appeared to be glazed over and his veins were visible beneath his skin all over his face and neck.

"Enough Caver, please just do it before we lose more valuable time," requested the final member of the group. She was an older woman and obviously the mother of the two teenagers and the bearded man. Her skin tone was same as their and Caver's eyes matched hers. Her hair may have been the same black as theirs in her youth but now was a dark grey. She was wearing a light brown dress with a matching brown neckerchief and corset.

"Why doesn't it have to be me?" protested Caver. "Why can't Hawke or the templar do it?"

"Because the templar is wound and since I'm the eldest sibling, seniority has it perks like making younger brothers do things instead of me," replied the beard man who was Hawke.

"Fine then," grumbled Caver. Who set about his task of awkwardly dressing me in corpse pillaged clothes. "But I'm not going carry his ass all the way to the Wilds".

The clothes were uncomfortable as they fit poorly on my long frame, were really filthy and were torn in number of places. I didn't like wearing dead man clothes but beggars can't be choosers. And a beggar I was what with most of material possessions having been burn to ashes along with my apartment and rest out of reach figuratively speaking.

"I don't expect you to," his other mother said. "You will be busy fighting Darkspawn, so I'll carry him"

"Are sure you can manage that mother?" asked Hawke. "You're already tired for all the running and while doesn't look heavy, he is pretty tall".

"Don't worry brother, I'll use heal on him," reassured the teenage girl. "While it won't restore him to full health, it should be enough for him to travel with mother's help and not overtax either of them".

She stood next to me, hunch over slight with her arms held low. Then a bright blue white glow rose up around her like a whirlwind and I felt her magic.

It was different to mine, different to how most practitioners and supernatural beings performed magic. We utilising the energy around us that is produced by life it's self and shape it with our will to modify reality to a certain degree. Her magic didn't use the energy around her but instead drew it from a different source which felt like the Nevernever. She also didn't use any incantations at all.

Magic is a kind of energy. It is given shape by human thoughts and emotions, by imagination. Thoughts define that shape-and words help to define those thoughts. That's why wizards usually use words to help them with their spells. Words provide a sort of insulation as the energy of magic burns through a spell caster's mind. If you use words that you're too familiar with, words that are so close to your thoughts that you have trouble separating thought from word, that insulation is very thin. So most wizards use words from ancient languages they don't know very well, or else they make up nonsense words and mentally attach their meanings to a particular effect. That way, a wizard's mind has an extra layer of protection against magical energies coursing through it. But you can work magic without words, without insulation for your mind. If you're not afraid of it hurting a little.

Unaware of my scrutiny, she continued on with her spell. She straightened, raising her hands upwards at the same time and I too was suddenly surrounded in blue white glowing ethereal whirlwind. Her magic rushed into me, a sudden tide of hot, living energy, rejuvenating the body, mind and soul. Raw vitality radiated out into my bones, running riot through my limbs. My weariness and pain vanished as swiftly as darkness before the sunrise.

I shakily got to my feet with the assistance of the sibling's mother and leaning heavily on her, with my right arm draped over her shoulders and her left arm secured around my waist, we head off south along the trail.

(Time Skip)

As we travelled, I tried to puzzle out what was going on. Instead of going on to Heaven or Hell or whatever, I find myself alive again. I was in an unfamiliar landscape currently fleeing with this ragtag group from these's 'Darkspawn'. So I decided to utilize my finely honed investigative skills to obtain more information.

"So who are you guys?" I asked the motherly woman helping me shamble along.

"I'm Leandra," she replied. "Those three are my children; the eldest is Garrett Hawke," The breaded man inclined his head slightly. "The twins are Bethany and Caver," Bethany gave me a small smile and a little wave while Caver just grunted in acknowledgement. "The other two are Aveline Vallen and her husband Ser Wesley Vallen," The orange haired woman glanced in our direction at the mention of her name before returning her focus back to her husband who condition looked to be steadily worsening as he struggled along. "And this good little boy is Katan," the dog barked at the praise and wagged his short tail.

"What about you?" Leandra inquired. "What's your name?"

"Harry Dresden," I answered and continued on with my questioning. "Where are we heading?"

Hawke answer this one. "We are going south to the Korcari Wilds to escape before we are completely surrounded by Darkspawn".

"Darkspawn?" I repeated. Stars and stones, I felt like the new guy again. As if that feeling didn't suck enough when I was a ghost.

"Are you the village idiot or just daft?" Caver asked me scornfully, so much for not appearing to be a moron. "What, did you think a group of really ugly bandits attacked and left you to die?

"You're the village idiot," retorted Bethany, coming to my defence. "Those bandits from the Imperial highway probably robbed him after they were run off. As Darkspawn won't steal his clothes".

"Darkspawn," Ser Wesley interrupted before the two siblings start squabbling. "Are tainted creatures created by the hubris of man, who sought to enter the realm of the Maker and claim the Golden City as their own. Instead they corrupted it with their sin, turning it into the Black City. They were cast back out, their own evil transforming them into the monsters now know as the Darkspawn".

If anything the explanation left me more confused and with more questions. While being corrupted and twisted into a hideous monster because of their greed or foolishness sounds like some cheesy movie plot, it never the less has happen plenty of times. Like those who choose to take up the coins of the Order of the Blackened Denarius. But this 'realm of the Maker' and Golden City? Was that some place in the Nevernever? And this 'Maker', was he one of those a near forgotten Old Gods that was almost consigned to oblivion in relation of the dawning of the twenty century.

But before I could press for more details, Katan let out a low rumbling growl that drew all of our attentions. I decided to extended my wizard senses forwards to find what had set him off.

When I say wizard senses, I mean it in a similar fashion to spider sense. Spidey's enhanced senses detect when he's in danger and warn him that he's got incoming. A wizard's senses don't do that (though I suppose with enough work, someone could come close). What they do sense is the presence of magic, in both its natural state and its worked forms. You don't have to be concentrating to make it happen—it's natural in every practitioner. The theory I've heard espoused most often is that the ability to sense such energies makes it possible for a regular person to become a wizard, providing the kind of sensory feedback he needs to gradually work with more and more energy. So while a regular person who lacked the sense could, technically, learn how to use magic without it, it would be a process as difficult as someone who was born blind teaching himself to paint.

What I felt was a dark sensation, the kind that destroys, warps, rots, and corrupts. Scarily the sense was faintly like the Skinwalker's only much weaker and more diluted. It was like light beer compared to Absinthe but however tiny, it still bear enough of a familiarity to make me weary. And the sensation was not created by a single individual but a group of them and they were heading directly at us fast.

A group of what appeared to humans came boiling out from the crags in the trail ahead and came tearing toward us screaming, a high and terrifying sound.

"Darkspawn!" shouted Caver unnecessarily reaching for his sword.

They wore black angular armour with spikes at the ends on their hands, forearms, shoulders, chest, side of the thighs and feet. Secure around their middle was a ragged olive loincloth. Chainmail cover it neck and head but left its face uncovered. The one handed sword that they carried matched the style of their armour, black and angular. As for the creatures themselves, the skin that was bare of armour displayed deathly pale skin, like those of a corpse. As they rapidly approached, I got a better look of their faces and wished I hadn't. Their faces like the rest of their body were pale and resembled humans. But they lacked lips which exposed greying rotting teeth. There were also no eyebrows and the noses were flatted against their faces, as if someone had tried to squash them. What were most disturbing about them were the eyes, not the fact that were filmed over with grey but what they seem to contain. Hunger, desire, longing, lust, rage and malice. A multitude of emotions all intertwine together in a seething tide of madness.

"Guess their ears were burning" Hawke joked as pulled his giant blade from his back.

"That's not all of theirs that will be burning" Bethany stated grimly as cross her right arm in front of her body, channel her magic into that hand as she did so. She then swung it back in an arch, pitching from her hand a ball of fire the size of a baseball at the oncoming Darkspawn. It slammed into the front row of Darkspawn and detonated with the same force of a grenade, setting a light or stunned by the concussion of the explosion.

Hawke, Caver and Aveline surged forward with furious battle cries and attacked, hoping to eliminate them before they recover. Blood flew accompany by shrieks of pain and death as the human warriors cut them done with ease. While the three had charged into the fray of battle Bethany instead had chosen to hang back. She wasn't the only one as one Darkspawn had done so as well and thus avoided being hit by the fireball. I missed seeing it before due to it having been at the rear of the group and my attention being draw to the faster individuals of the group.

This Darkspawn was taller than the rest, had pointed ears and his gaping mouth was like that of a gaping piranha. The fingers on its hands were elongated and had three inches long claw like nails on each one. It was dressed in a black apron over a black bottom dress with a red sash. On face was a leather strap that run down between its eyes were it split apart like an upside down y and continued on to encircle the back of the head in the same way.

It held it hands before itself, moving them in circle like patterns and gathering glowing blue energy in between them.

So this type of Darkspawn can use the same type of magic as Bethany.

Bethany attacked the thing, turning her staff around to point the end at her opponent which shot out a small burst of energy. She then spun the staff around to point the other end at the Darkspawn and fire another burst of energy. Final she twirled her staff around herself and over her head before slamming it down butt first into the earth. A trail of blue energy shot fourth from it and raced towards the magic wielding Darkspawn. The first two blue bolts hit the Darkspawn which hurt it but didn't stop its spell casting. Then the energy trail reached it and erupted upwards for the ground, catching thing in an uppercut. It was sent reeling, the spell interrupted before it was complete.

Bethany then repeated the stance and action she used when casting the fireball. This instead of fire, ice shot from her hand and froze the Darkspawn solid.

All the other having been slain, Hawke went charge at the frozen Darkspawn and with a cry jumped a foot into the air, sword held high over his head. He came down in a massive two hand sword stroke that shattered the Darkspawn into chucks of frozen meat.

I was impressed by how effective this group of people were. They very skilled fighters and made good use of tactics. They were quick to capitalise on the advantage Bethany had created with her remarkable skill at evocation. Evocation is 'quick and dirty' magic, aka "kaboom magic", or "battle magic", which has the advantage of can being used on the fly but may take a while to learn a new evocation.

"That seems to be the lot of them" commented Aveline observing the group's handiwork.

"Let's get moving before more discover us" ordered Hawke and we started off again.

We had barely made it to the clearing at the top of the next slope, when my wizard senses felt a presence of what I could now identify as a Darkspawn. There was only one of the things this time but it was big as ground start to shake from its footsteps as it drew closer. It came charging up from the other end of the slope, forcing Hawke, Aveline and Ser Wesley to dive aside to avoid getting trampled. It halted in the middle of the clearing giving a swift bellow, before it turned and oriented on Caver, Leandra and me. Oooh crap. The thing was about nine feet tall and built like a brick house. It had pale skin like the others but for its shoulders and outer side of it limbs which were grey. Its armour was the same as the rest of its kind and was worn in the same style. It had the standard facial features, pointed ears, no eyebrows or lips and sharp pointed teeth. But its head seemed to sprout two black curved, spiky horns like that of gnarled tree branches. It wasn't armed, by that made little difference. The thing could probably pick up a minivan one handed and crash it like a soda can.

While Leandra and I cowered in perfectly rational fear, Caver decided to act like the irrational teenager that he was and confront the giant monster.

"You soulless bastards!" he cried and swung his blade at the monster. Sparks flew as the blow was block with its armoured forearm. It then reached down for the hapless teen.

I saw with grisly foresight what it intend to do. I was weak that couldn't stand without the help of someone's but there was no way in hell I was just going to sit back and let a mother's child be killed right in front of her.

I extended my free hand towards the monster, focusing all my remaining will into it and a bit of soulfire. Soulfire is the ability to use the soul to enhance magic. Unlike Hellfire which gives power to the means; Soulfire gives power to the intention. And I used that intention to save Caver's life.

"Forzare!" I yelled, letting loose the spell. I had used my standard force-projection spell formed around the matrix of soulfire, and what had been an instantaneous exertion of force became a long-term entity capable of manipulation and exertion to the same degree.

You can imagine the surprise of the Darkspawn. Instead grabbing Caver and squishing him like a tomato; itself was instead seized by a massive silvery simulacrum of my own fist.

I could feel my fingers close over the pale giant's body, felt the numerous spikes of it armour press painfully into the silvery construct as if it was my own flesh. The monster bit and clawed at the construct that held it. I could feel the pain of it but it was a small thing, really, something I might have gotten from a rat.

The sensation was unpleasant as hell and so put a stop to it by flinging it at the cliff behind me with the force of a wrecking ball. It slammed into it with bone cracking force and slid down to the ground. It lay there for a moment, stunned into immobility from the collision. Then my fist came crashing down at it, like a sledgehammer, and drove it face first eight inches into the earth.

"Oh, yeah, its hammer time baby!" I crowed, elated.

I pounded the Darkspawn in a similar fashion a few more times, spending it deeper into the dirt with every blow. I stopped when it was about six feet under and undoubtedly dead.

I released the spell and sagged instantly, letting Leandra prop up most of my weight. My hand had also gone numb. This was no surprise as the soulfire that I had drawn upon had come from its aura and as such I couldn't feel anything below my wrist. It flopped loosely at the end of my arm and didn't respond when I tried to move it. It would e grow back in time. Have a good time, enjoy myself; things that uplift the human spirit and it'll come back before I knew it.

The rest had recovered from the sudden attack and now stared at me wearily. Tension ran through the group as a result my little display. I didn't blame them for looking at me as though I was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"By the Maker," whispered Bethany in awe, breaking the silence. "What kind of magic was that?"

"Another apostate," said Ser Wesley, distaste evident in his tone. "The Darkspawn appears to be sending your lot scurrying from your hidey holes".

"Didn't you just call me a prostate?" I asked mockery in my voice.

"What? No!" Ser Wesley spluttered indignantly.

And with that the tension eased and the Hawke siblings let out chuckles or in Bethany's case giggles.

"Thank you mister Dresden, for saving my son," said Leandra, looking up at my face.

"Just returning the favour ma'am," I replied, quickly averted my eyes. "We should get going again".

"Flames" cursed Aveline as we turned around to see more Darkspawn rushing at us. "We're too late".

"Can you do any more of that magic?" asked Hawke and the others faced off with the Darkspawn.

"No, I don't have enough magic left to light a candle, let alone stop all them" I answered.

"Well then it's up to us then brother," Caver said grimly.

"Right you are," quipped Hawke and charged forward to meet the Darkspawn. "Let's have at it!"

Hawke and the group engaged them and quickly began cutting them down. However it became quickly apparent that it was futile as more and more Darkspawn keep on coming.

"There's no end to them" Bethany said in despair.

The Darkspawn shrieked and howled in triumph and started closing in around us but paused in shock and fear as low thunderous growl rolled thought the air.

We all turned to see on top of the cliff behind us, a massive pair of maroon folded bat wings. They unfurled to reveal a freaking dragon! It was the size of a plane with spikes that ran down it neck along it spine to near the end of its tail. It head was shaped like a bird and had a bony crest with a horn rising from the centre on top of its head, and a horn that ran along each side of its mouth like tusks. There were four curving horns emerging from the back of its skull, two to each side.

"How did I not notice that before now?" asked myself, voice dry.

The dragon let out a bird like shriek before down low towards us. We hit the deck as it swooped past us, fire spewing from it maw. It set many of the Darkspawn alight and even swept some up in its claws and mouth before dropping them for a fatal height. It quickly banked around and landed in the middle of the clearing, spend us and the Darkspawn scrambling for safety. It seemed to ignore us focus solely on the Darkspawn. It spat at them fire and lashed out with its tail and claws. The slaughter was over in seconds; leave the dragon standing there, a Darkspawn clutch in one huge claw, alone amidst the fires.

It regarded us for a moment, before being engulfed in bright swirling yellow white light. The light shrank in size until dispersed to show a well aged woman. She appear to be old and yet not. Her face was mostly smooth with only a few age lines. She possessed eyes that were the colour of amber like those of an animal, which were ringed around with maroon eye shadow. The lips sported the same shade of colour as her eye shadow and had matching small steel hooped earrings with fangs dangling for each of them. On her forehead was a steel tiara that was exactly the same shape as the bone crest the dragon had. She had pure white hair, styled into horns, like those of her dragon form, and a flowing mane that reached just past her shoulders.

Her outfit was a sleeveless low v cut maroon dress with a long train and black legging. The arms, hands and legs were completely encased in grey steel armour. Encircling her neck was a maroon collar that reached up to her chin and down over her shoulders. The edge of the collar had black feathers attached all round it.

She approached, walking calmly through the still burning fire. She stopped just shy of us and remarked, "Well, well, what have we here?"

Hell's Bells, this day just keeps getting better and better.


	2. Chapter 2: A Witch of the Wilds

Wizard, Warden, Champion?

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or The Dresden file. They are rightful the property of Bioware and Jim Butcher.

**Author note: Sorry about the lateness of an update but I felt that had rush the first chapter and as such wasn't really satisfied with how it turned out, so I took it slow this time to get it right. Plus a number of other things kept delaying me like work, mass effect 3 and my laptop get a virus. I had install everything again but my files were wipeout (Nooooo! my precious games saves are gone) so I had to start from scratch again. Anyway I'll going back to work on chapter one before doing chapter three. That sucks I know, but I feel that getting chapter right is really important as it will determine whether people will decide to continue reading this story or not. Again please let me know if there any errors so I can fix them, thanks. Till next time.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: A Witch of the Wilds<strong>

Being through a number of life threatening episodes has given me a certain amount of cynicism. Once a rogue wizard or three has tried to end your life, or some berserk vampire has attempted to have your throat torn out, you start to expect the worst.

I felt that my conviction was completely justified when being confronted by a shape-shifting dragon lady.I mean, sure, she had just rescued us and I'm total grateful for that . . . but I had the feeling she didn't do it out of the kindness of her heart. Her timing was improbable, coming to our rescue just as we need it. It smells like a setup.

I know, Paranoid? Probably. But I'd hate to find out that the universe really wasn't conspiring against me. It would jerk the rug out from under my persecution complex.

Hawke, however, obviously didn't feel threatened at all by the shape shifter as he had started to approach her with his brother trailing behind him. A rattling clacking sound that came from behind pulled both of the siblings up short and had them look back on impulse for the source.

It was Ser Wesley, whose struggles in an effort to remain upright had caused his armor plates to clatter against one another. The constant fleeing from Darkspawn while wounded had finally caught up to him. As we watched he staggered and would of have collapsed, if not for Aveline coming to his aid. She hastily took hold of him and laid him down upon an outcrop of rock. While Aveline tended to her husband, the rest of returned our attention back to Dragon Lady.

"It used to be we never got visitors to the Wilds, but now it seems they arrive in hordes!" she remarked in a wry voice.

"Impressive," said Hawke, his lips shifting to one side in a smirk. "Where'd you learn how to turn into a dragon?"

"Perhaps I am a dragon," she answered coolly. "If so, count yourself lucky. The smell of burning Darkspawn does nothing for the appetite".

Being a professional investigator with instincts honed by years of observation, I noticed the subtle threat hidden in her words.

I've had the threat of being eaten by supernatural creatures aimed at me countless times before and as such her implied meaning of her possibly eating us didn't really fill me with terror as it would with any sane person.

No, what had set my heart to racing was the reminder of the burnt darkspawn corpses.

I don't like fire. Ironic considering how often I have wielded fire magic against my enemies but I have been on the receiving end as well and had once gotten burned. Badly.

It happen a couple of years ago when my allies and me were wiping out a scourge of Black Court vampires during which a Renfield with a homemade flamethrower had attacked me. Thanks to my old shield bracelet, I managed to the flames from reaching me but the shield had been designed to provide an intangible barrier meant to deflect solid matter and kinetic energy. It hadn't been made to stop, for example, heat. That's how my left hand got roasted practically down to the bones.

So to avoid a repeat of that experience, especially since I didn't have a shield bracelet this time, I decided that I better treat her in a polite and respectful manner as to not provoke her into a fiery temper and end up sharing the same fate as the darkspawn. And they say I can't be diplomatic.

And they were right as evidently my mouth didn't seem to agree with this plan and went off on its own, heedless to the possible consequences, without checking in with my brain first.

"So you can turn scaly, put on about a hundred pounds and have bad chili breath. Big deal lady, that doesn't make you a real dragon any more than me dressed in red and blue, with a cape and wearing my underwear on the outside makes me Superman."

Her brow furrowed in confusing. "Superman?" she asks, clearly baffled by my statement and obviously not getting the reference at all. Guess she's more of a Marvel fan.

"Never mind, my point is that you can reshape yourself into the form of a dragon with magic, but it's pretty much just topology. You may have rearranged your physical body, but your mind still remains the same. So it's still your personality and not that of a true dragon" I explained.

"What makes you certain that it's not the other way round?" There was a hard edge to her voice now. No doubt she was probably angry at me for ruining her cool mysterious attitude that she had going.

"Cause I've met a dragon in human form once. He was the eldest of his kind, and the strongest but even he couldn't take human form without one flaw that gave him away."

A slight shiver which had nothing to do with fatigue ran through my body. The encounter with Ferrovax hadn't been a pleasant one. Granted I've had far worse but like he intended, he had left me with quite the impression of him.

Banishing the memory, I continued on with my explanation. "But you don't have that flaw, so ergo, not a dragon."

"And just what is the flaw?" She inquired, her tone losing that hard edge and instead appearing intrigued now.

"He continually breathed smoke, which is actually not at all that surprising. It's to be expected really what with the fire-breathing and all," I answered.

Surprisingly she titled back her head slightly and let out a short burst of laughter, high with a hint of a wheeze at the end of each exultation. "Oh, you I like!" She exclaims.

What can I say, I have a gift. Maybe I should give up the wizard investigator gig and become a comedian instead.

"If you wish to flee the darkspawn, you should know you are heading in the wrong direction," she turned away and making to leave as though she had now lost all interest in us.

Bethany, in obvious panic at this surprise and unexpected turnabout, took a step towards her in anxiety. "You can't just leave us," she begs.

The Dragon Lady glanced back at her for a second before returning her gaze forward again. "Can't I?" She asks coldly in return, unmoved by Bethany's plea. She turns to face us once more and she continued on without giving us chance to reply. "I spotted a most curious sight: a mighty ogre, vanquish! Who could perform such a feat? But now my curiosity is sated, and you are safe… for the moment. Is that not enough?"

Her curiosity has been sated huh? It has being said that dragon's horde treasure cause of their love of shiny objects, like Magpies. So maybe the shiny silver of my hand construct had caught her interest but quickly lost it once it was gone and she was now simply hiding this fact out of embarrassment. Hey, it could happen, you never know.

"You could show me that trick of yours," Hawke suggested humorously. "That looks useful."

Dragon Lady let out a low scathingly laugh and said "If only a clever tongue is all one need! Tell me, clever child: how do you intend to outrun the blight?"

"We're going to Kirkwall- in the Free Marches," answered Caver, speaking up for the first time.

"Kirkwall?" She repeated, arched an eyebrow. "My, but that is quite the voyage you plan. Your King will not miss you, hmm?" she asked with mild curiosity.

"I'm sure he'll miss his life more," was Hawke's uncaring replied. This prompted another burst of laughter from dragon lady but one of cold mirth this time.

Who was this recently deceased king that Hawke and Dragon Lady were talking about? I suppose they could mean The Red King of The Red Court of vampires, who and the rest of his court save a few, were killed not too long ago by a bloodline curse I had set off to save my daughter. However, I highly doubt it as that meant Hawke had been a part of The Red Court. He didn't seem the type to be in league with them as a thrall, what with his family and all, and I doubt that he used to be a half-turned vampire otherwise he would have recognized me immediately.

I was pulled out my thoughts as the dragon lady, clearly addressing me now, states cryptically, "Hurtled into the chaos, you fight… and the world will shake before you."

I hate cryptic statements. I know, the whole cryptic-remark concept is part and parcel of the wizard gig, but I'm really getting sick of that I-know-and-you-don't shtick.

She once more turned and paced a few steps away from us, crossing her arms and gazing out over the devastated landscape. "Is it fate or chance? I can never decide," she murmured out loud to herself, evidently deep in thought. Then apparently coming to some sort of decision, she walk back toward us and says "It appears fortune smiles on us both today. I may be able to help you yet."

Wow, what a surprising and completely unexpected change of heart.

I raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "I'm not stupid lady, there's no such thing as a free lunch. There must be a catch"

She let out a low chuckle. "There is always a catch. Life is a catch! I suggest you catch it while you can!" The last bit came out rather sinister as her voice changed, become low and harsh.

"Should we even trust her?" asked Caver, looking toward his brother for an indication. "We don't even know who she is!"

Looking up from tending her husband, Aveline said, "I know who she is. The Witch of the Wilds."

The Dragon Lady shrugging her in indifference, "Some call me that. Also Flemeth. Asha'bellanar. An old hag who talks too much." She chuckled softly to herself at the last one.

I had notice that Dragon Lady here, Flemeth, doesn't want to give her True Name. That's understandable as Names, capital N, have power. A wizard can get a person's name only from their own lips. Why's that? Because just knowing the name isn't good enough, you have to know exactly how to say it. Ask two people with the same name to say their names for you, and you'll get subtle differences in tone and pronunciation, each one unique to its owner. But when a practitioner knows the Name of something, knows it in every nuance and detail of pronunciation, then he can use that Name to open a magical conduit to that being which means that you can then exercise power over it. Much like how fresh blood, nail clippings, or locks of hair could be used the same way in voodoo dolls.

"Does it matter? I offer you this: I will get your group past the horde in exchange for a simple delivery to a place not far out of your way. Would you do this for a Witch of the Wilds?"

It was a simple exchange, as these things went. Flemeth had offered me a great package, sweet, neat, and tidy as a Halloween candy. Which meant that I'd be an idiot not to check for razor blades and cyanide.

"And how much trouble will this deliver cause?" I asked "A lot of the bargains I've made have habit of coming back and biting me in the ass later on."

"About as much trouble as my saving your lives not five minutes ago."

"Translation, lots of pain and probable death"

"It's nothing more dangerous than one so capable can handle," she replied calmly.

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," I muttered sarcastically.

It seemed that Hawke did have self preservation instincts after all because instead of agree straight away, he instead asked, "Should we trust her?"

"Wesley is injured. We'll never escape the darkspawn," answered Aveline as she attempted to stop the spasms that racked her husband body.

She was right, Ser Wesley wasn't going anywhere without help. His condition had progressively worsened. His eyes had taken on the same dull silvery reflective color like those the darkspawn possess and the veins in his neck and face were filling with some kind of black substance like substance which made it plainly visible through his skin. With my wizard sense I could feel a cold, nauseating, rotting, tainted feel that was somewhat the same as how a darkspawn presence felt to my senses, coursing through his body. The feeling was weaker than a darkspawn but it grew steadily stronger with each passing second.

"If you need to, leave me behind" said Ser Wesley.

"No! I said I would drag you out if I had to, and I meant it!" exclaimed Aveline, resting one hand tenderly on his check.

"You would go through all that trouble to have something delivered?" asked Hawke skeptically.

"I have… an appointment to keep. It is far more convenient this way. Happily, you're not without your own needs," said Flemeth.

"What is a Witch of the Wild, exactly? Is it anything like the Wicked Witch of the West?" I inquired innocently.

"I've never heard of this Wicked Witch of the West but a Witch of the Wilds is a Chasind legend. Witches that steal children," answered Aveline.

"Bah! As if I had nothing better to!" cut in Flemeth.

She was lying, I could tell. Those of the supernatural world are quite eager to get a hold of mortal children who can't defend themselves. They have usages beyond just being food. Beings such as the Sidhe or Denarians would raise them with their voices whispering in their ears. Shaping them. Preparing them to be used as weapons or to be slaves. My own daughter had being used recently in such a way.

"You're an apostate?" Bethany asked.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Just like you."

"So, what's the verdict? Do we all accept the bargain?" I asked the group.

"We don't have much choice," replied Hawke.

"We never do," remarked Flemeth. "There is a clan of Dalish elves near the city of Kirkwall. Deliver this amulet to their Keeper, Marethari."

This situation sounds familiar. All that was missing is me having a long beard, a surly dwarf and the darkspawn calling out 'my precious' as they chased us.

She approached and went to hand me the amulet but I didn't take it. No way in hell was I going to touch it without checking first if it was safe. For all I knew it could house some kind of demonic entity, like those of the Fallen coins.

And I was right. As I focus my wizard senses and examined the amulet, I found that the magic of in it was acting as a container and was sustaining whatever entity it held inside.

Hiding my trepidation, I asked bluntly, "What does the amulet contained?"

She regard me closely, her expression unreadable. "Well then, it's seems I was right. I had thought that you would be able to tell, given what you had imploded against the ogre. As for what the amulet contains, it's my…insurance."

Hell's bells, she had recognized my use of Soulfire. No one but the Fallen Thorned Namshiel

and the naagloshii had before and what did she mean by Insurance? Ah, looks like I was thinking of the wrong series. Instead of a deformed person muttering 'my precious', its three British teenagers who will be chasing after me.

"Okay, the deal's off," I said.

"Um, Harry?" cut in Hawke. "We kind of need this if we don't want to be killed by the darkspawn."

"The amulet contains a part of her soul; if you take it there is a high possibility that it could possess you" I warned him.

"I can't believe that I'm saying this but the apostate is right," supported Ser Wesley. "We cannot risk let lose another one of her upon the world."

"I rather risk a possibility than staying and being slaughtered by the darkspawn for certain. You two can stay behind and die if you want," said Caver.

"Caver!" snapped Leandra disapprovingly. "This man saved your life; we won't repay him by abandoning him."

"I recalled we saved him first so it's even," Caver shot back.

"How do you even know that it has a part of her soul inside it?" questioned Bethany.

"It seems that your fellow companion here can use his soul to fuel his magic," replied Flemeth.

"Is that true?" asked Bethany, eyes wide in awe.

"Yeah, it's true," I sighed reluctantly. "And stop look at me like that or you'll make me blush."

"Forget about that for moment," said Aveline. What are going to do? We can't stay here but neither do I wish to have my body turned into an abomination."

"Your fears are unfounded, while the amulet does indeed contains a part of my soul, it cannot possess anyone as thats not its intended purpose. In any case without the Dalish Keeper, it may as well be just an amulet," stated Flemeth reassuringly.

"And how do we know that you aren't lying Witch?" demanded Ser Wesley.

"You don't," was the calm reply.

"But I do." I said. "Swear by your power that what you said was true. That your soul in the amulet cannot and will not possess any living being."

Oaths in general carry a lot of currency among the preternatural crowd. They're binding in more senses than the theoretical. Every time you break a promise, there's a kind of backlash of spiritual energies. A broken promise can inflict horrible pain on supernatural entities, such as the Sidhe. When a wizard breaks a promise, particularly when sworn by his own power, the backlash is different: a diminishing of that magical talent. It isn't a crippling effect by any means—but break enough promises and sooner or later you'd have nothing left.

"What good will that do?" asked Caver scornfully.

"Cause if she breaks it, she'll suffer a spiritual backlash that will reduce her magical power. It's nothing too bad but since she has resorted to having a contingency plan, it means that someone strong is coming for her, that appointment of hers that she has to keep. I figure it won't help none if she wasn't at hundred percent."

"Interesting, does this type of oath really do that?" asks Flemeth.

"It does and I can assure you of that from personal experience. So what's it going to be?"

"As you said before," she answered, while shooting a glance towards Hawke. "I don't have much choice. I swear, by my own power, that my soul in the amulet cannot and will not possess any living beings. Now then, do we have a bargain?"

"We do," I agreed and accepted the amulet from her. I look down at it, half expecting to see a serpentine S engraved in it.

"Remember, give it to Keeper Marethari, do as she asks with it and any debt between us is paid in full. Before I take you anywhere, however, there is another matter…" she said turning and making her way to Ser Wesley.

Aveline stood up and barred her path. "No! Leave him alone!" she said defiantly.

"What has been done to your man is within his blood already," Flemeth told her gently, her expression showing genuinely remorse.

"You lie!" denied Aveline.

"She's right, Aveline," admitted Ser Wesley. "I can feel the corruption inside me."

"This corruption, I can sense it, it has the same feel as those the darkspawn had. Did you get it from…?" I asked.

"From the darkspawn, yes. All that blood. I knew…" he let out a grunt of pain and before continuing, "When it happened."

"Then how much time before you…?" ask Aveline, her face falling into sadness.

"Not long now, if I am any judge," was the grim response from Flemeth.

"There must be something we can do," implored Hawke.

"Well Bethany is too exhausted to perform any more healing and healing isn't my forte," I gave Flemeth a question look. "Can you…?" I asked dubiously.

"The cure I know of is to become a Grey Warden," replied Flemeth.

I guess they don't mean the Wardens of the White Council. We have been called 'the Order of the Grey Cloak' before but never Grey Warden.

"And they all died at Ostagar," said Hawke.

"Not all," corrected Flemeth. "But the last are now beyond your reach."

Aveline looked at all us briefly, silently asks to give her a moment, before walking back and to kneel down next to her husband.

"Aveline, listen to me," pleaded Ser Wesley.

"You can't ask me this! I won't!" she replied resolutely.

"Please," Ser Wesley begged. "The corruption is a slow death. I can't…"

I couldn't help but momentarily wonder why he was shouting earlier 'I will not die today' if he knew that the corruption in him was going to kill him.

Hawke made to go to them, a resolute expression on his face. I released what he intended to do. He would offer to do the deed instead.

I shoot him such a hard look that it stopped him dead in his tracks. I then said gently to Aveline, "he's your husband, Aveline, it's your decision."

I knew how hard a choice it was. And how much it hurt to make it. When I had gone to rescue my daughter from The Red Court, I had ended up having to do something similar. Memories flashed through my head. Susan. An obsidian knife. I felt sick. I'll get over it_, _I told myself. Eventually.

Aveline look over at me, her expression despondent, before returning her gaze to regard her husband.

"Be strong, my love," encouraged Ser Wesley faintly. He withdrew a dagger and held it before him, the tip aim at his heart.

Aveline placed her hands upon top of his and the two gazed at each other briefly. Then she leant forward, plunging the dagger into his chest. Ser Wesley grunted and arched forward in reaction. Then his body relaxed and he ease back with a sigh escaping his lips. Aveline extended one arm and gently closed his eyelids.

As Aveline stood, Flemeth walked up behind her and said, "Without an end, there can be no peace." She turn and started off, saying as went, "It gets no easier. Your struggles have only just begun."

Stars and Stones, don't I know it.


	3. Chapter 3: Career Choices

**Wizard, Warden, Champion?**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Dragon Age or The Dresden file. They are rightful the property of Bioware and Jim Butcher.

**Sorry that this chapter took so long but I decided to take my time writing them now after see how badly done the first two were. Hopeful you'll find this chapter better of better quality. I still plan to go back and rewrite the first two chapters but after I'm a few more chapters into the story. In the dragon age games there is some called ****party ****dialogue, where you and your companions chat amongst themselves. I will be included these as omake at the end of each chapter. **

**About the pairings for this story. Having read the Harry Dresden novel, I believe that Harry wouldn't enter a relationship with either Merrill or Bethany. Sorry but I want to try and keep Harry as close as possible to his canon personality. Which also means he will not be hooking up with Fenris, Anders or any other guys. So that leaves either Aveline or Isabella. Let me know which one you would prefer to see Harry with. As for Hawke, he is straight. So his pairings are Merrill, Aveline or Isabela. Again, let me know which one you want to see him with.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: Career Choices <strong>

Flemeth got us safely to a town called Gwaren before head off to her 'appointment'.

The town looked like something out of the world history channel. There wasn't a trace of twenty first century architecture anywhere. No sign of any modern day technology either. There were no power lines, no cars, not even a single street light.

Unless I've travelled back in time, I was in another world. I really hoped it was the latter of the two. I didn't want to accidently step on a butterfly or some other seemly insignificant creature and ends up causing the apocalypse back in the present as a result.

We made our way down to the docks where with the meagre amount of coins that Aveline and the Hawke family possessed, we managed to buy passage on a small sailboat that was chartering refugees to Kirkwall.

"Boats," I muttered, as trudging on board and descended into the hold with my new friends. "Why did it have to be boats?"

Historically, I seemed to have bad luck with boats. Partially my brother Thomas' Water Beetle, a forty-two feet long ancient battered commercial fishing boat that could have been a stunt double for Quint's fishing boat in Jaws. On just that boat alone I have been ambush by a gang of ghouls wanting to tear me apart, nearly slice up like mince meat by a demonic possessed teenage girl that looked like the demented love child of Medusa and Doctor Octopus -oh, and getting shot to death.

I'm not nautical, so I didn't know what type of boat this was but like everything else here it looked like it belonged on the set of a medieval movie. Which meant it didn't possess any engines. Looks like the trip to Kirkwall was going to be a long one.

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><p>After two weeks of being tossed about by terrible storms we final reached our destination.<p>

Kirkwall was a coastal city that was built on top of a cliff. The cliff form a natural imposing black 'wall' that was visible for miles, no doubt give the city's its namesake.

A channel had been carved into the cliff, allowing boats to sail through a dark corridor of sheer walls that were hundreds of feet high.

Flanking either side of the entrance of the channel were two massive bronze statues. They were there for more than mere show. A massive chain net was suspended between the statues and the nearby lighthouse. When raised, the city would be able to close off the only navigable sea lane and bar anyone entrance.

We disembarked from the boat at an enormous fortress, its walls and battlements lined with red banisters displaying a white symbol that had to be the city's crest. In the middle of the structure, a single blocky tower rose high above the rest of the fortification.

"They're not letting anyone into the city," Aveline noted.

"What? That can't be!" Leandra protested.

"It's true. Look at them all."

She point to where a throng of people had gather at the exit of the docks. A line of guardsman stood before them, baring their way.

"They're Fereldans, just like us," Bethany commented in observation.

"Are you really surprised?" Caver asked. "Everyone's fleeing the Blight, just as we are."

"And they would us all back to the wolves. Unbelievable," said Aveline in disgust, eyeing the guards.

Hawke shrugged. "I'm only surprised they let us dock."

"We need to find Gamlen. Our family has always been highly regarded in Kirkwall. He can do something, I'm sure of it!" Leandra declared.

"Let's hope he received your letter," Caver said.

"The guards seem to be reporting to that man. Perhaps we should speak with him," Aveline suggested, indicated towards the lone guard that wasn't wearing a helmet.

We head towards him, pushing our way to the front of the crowd.

He saw what we were doing and said, "get back to the crowd, you lot. Trying to bully your way through won't get you into Kirkwall any faster!"

"But you do intend to let us in?" Aveline inquired.

The guard scoffed. "Ha! We have enough poor of our own in the Free Marches. We don't need you refugees piling up here like a middens heap!"

"I heard some call this place the Gallows. Is it a prision?" Hawke asked.

"Used to be, in the Imperial days," he answered. "They kept slaves here until the rebellion. Now the templars run it and use it to lock up their mages. Guess not much has changed."

"So it's a prison for those with magic?" I asked curiously.

"Well, no more so than anywhere else. It's a Circle of Magi now," he clarified. "Magic is to serve mankind, not rule him, and mages are better locked up where they don't hurt anyone."

While I didn't know what a 'Circle of Magi' was but it sure sounded a lot like a prison to me.

"If this isn't a prison, how come your not letting anyone into the city?"

"If it were up to me, I'd bar the gates and let you find somewhere else to beg. But it's not. Some of you lot might have legitimate business in the city. So Knight-commander Meredith wants us to sort you all out," he explained. "Most of you are getting right back on your ships, though."

"That's a templar title. Why would a city guardsman answer to the templars?" Hawke asked.

"We don't answer to her...but she's the power in Kirkwall. Don't know what would happen if the viscount went against something against something she wanted...but he's sure never taken that chance."

It sounds like there's a power struggle going on between this Knight-commander Meredith and the viscount.

"Well, our business here is legitimate," Leandra told him. "We have family in the city and—"

"Yes, yes," the guard interpreted with an inpatient sigh. "Always the same story. You want in, talk to Captain Ewald. I'm just here to keep you refuse from climbing the walls."

He gesture to theflight of stairs behind him, indicating we were free to go on, then returned to surveying the crowd.

As we climbed them and I notice that the walls were lined withbronze carvings. They were crudely drawn depictions of men with their hands to clapped to the sides of their heads. I didn't have much context to go on but I guessed they must of been renditions of the slaves from the 'Imperial Days'.

Also lining the interior of the Gallows were other refugees who failed to convince this Captain Ewald to let them into the city. Seeing how numerous their numbers were showed that our odds weren't very high. If we wanted entrance to the city we would have to be pretty damn convincing.

After reaching the landing we went down a corridor, rounded a corner and walked out into a giant courtyard. Filling the courtyard were bronze statues of tortured slaves, a ghastly memento of Kirkwall's history.

I could tell that the statues weren't built as some monument to the suffering of slaves. No, it had been designed with a far crueler purpose in mind. The aim of breaking a person's spirit. That there was no hope, no chance of them escaping their miserable fate.

Before a short staircase that lead up to an iron portcullis, a similar scene to our own at the docks was taking place.

A guardsman who had to be Captain Ewald was being confronted by a group of armed men in matching suits of brown armour.

As we approached Captain Ewald and the goon squad I was able to hear their conversation. "What do you want? Money? I can pay you," offered the Head goon.

"All the gold in Thedas won't make the city any larger," Captain Ewald replied coolly, not tempted by the bribe at all.

"Don't give us that shit! Where are we supposed to go?" he demanded.

"I don't know, serah, but there's nothing for you here," Captain Ewald answered indifferently.

Frustrated, the Head goon snarled. "Let us through, you flaming blighter! We're not staying in this pit!"

"Then get back on your ship and leave. Kirkwall has no more room for refugees."

"The ship's already gone! We paid good coin to get here!" one of the goons objected.

"You and half of Ferelden," he pointed out. "There's nothing I can do! The city is full!"

Hawke interrupted them. "Surely there's a bit of extra room for the pretty people?" he asked Captain Ewald jokingly.

"I find keeping my neck away from Knight-commander Meredith's blade far more attractive than any of you," he replied, deadpan. "We've been letting you Fereldans in for months. You're too late. There's no more room!"

"But we have family here," Bethany protested. "Doesn't that mean anything?"

He looked at her, his expression unconvinced. "I've heard claims like that a thousand times already. Trust me. We'll find some ships to take you all back to Ferelden—eventually. Until then, you stay here."

"Since we're stuck here until then could you at least send someone to look for their relative in city to prove that we're not lying," I asked.

"Our uncle Gamlen Amell knows we're coming," Hawke informed Captain Ewald.

"Gamlen," he said, sounding surprised. "I know that name..."

"He's a nobleman here in the city. Our family has an estate," Caver stated.

Captain Ewald scoffed. "A nobleman? The only Gamlen I know is a weasel who couldn't rub two coppers together. He comes back, I'll bring you to him. But I don't have time to—"

"What? You're going to let them through?" Head goon exclaimed.

"I didn't say anything about—"

"We've been here for four days! They just got here!" another goon protested.

This must of been the last straw as the Head goon remaining patience vanished. "That's it! We're carving our way out of here. Men!"

With a yell, they drew their weapons, intent on cutting down all that was in their path. Which also included us. So before they could carve us up like meat in a butcher's shop I hurled my right hand forward, calling, _"Ventas servitas!"_

Power, magic, coursed through my outstretched hand and lashed out. A chill wind rose in a sudden roar, a howling blizzard that whirled into being just in front of me and then hurtled out toward them.

It ploughed into them, catching them up like they were leaves and scattered them across the courtyard. They lay in a daze on the courtyard's flagstones, battered and half frozen. The force of the blizzard had also stripped their weapons from their grasp.

Captain Ewald shook his head in disbelief. "Unbelievable!" He remarked. I couldn't tell if he was referring to my display of magic or the actions of the goon squad.

Another guardsman came sprinting up to him. "Captain! Are you all alright?"

"I am, no thanks to you. Where is everyone? Go find them. I want these men under lock and key before they come up with anymore bright ideas."

The guard nodding hastily and rushed off.

Captain Ewald nodded to me in gratitude."You have my thanks. And my silence. The templars won't hear it from me that you're a mage."

"That nice and all but how about letting us in the city?" I asked.

"Look, I can't get you into the city. It's not my decision, but I'll find Gamlen and bring him here."

"I do hope that it doesn't take too long for him to find Gamlen," Leandra said, as we watched Captain Ewald go up the stairs and through the portcullis.

Caver glanced at the beaten goons who were now being hauled off by the guards. "As long as it's not four day like it was for them."

We settled down on the landing in front of the portcullis to wait. While we waited I used the time to try to focus my thoughts.

Fact one: I was alive. In spite of everything to the contrary. Getting shot through the chest, falling off the Water Beetle into the icy water of Lake Michigan and my body spending the following six months without a soul.

Fact two: If my recent use of magic was any indicator, I was also still the Winter Knight. That meant I still owed a debt to Mab in exchange for her giving me the power I needed to save my daughters' life.

Oh, God. All the people who'd gotten hurt, helping me...they'd done it for nothing.

I hadn't escaped Mab and what she could make me become. Nor her rage at my attempt to cheat her would have caused. I had seen how she had punished her pervious Winter Knight, Lloyd Slate, for defying her. She had him tortured into insanity over the years before I end his torment by slitting his throat with an obsidian knife. No doubt a similar fate awaited me.

Or maybe Mab would just scold me in that terrible voice of hers. I shudder at the memory of it. It had been filled with such rage, such fury and such hate that every vowel had clawed at my skin and every consonant had felt like someone was taking a staple gun to my ears. That voice had left me screaming in agony and bleeding at the ears.

But if they were the price I had to pay for making my daughter safe, so be it. I'll deal with the consequences of my choices when the time comes.

Fact three: I was in a different world. It wasn't like the Nevernever, the spiritual world of ghosts, fairies and other fantastic beings of every description, that exists alongside our own mortal reality like a two sides of the same coin kind of thing.

Fact four: I was stranded here without a clue on how to get home. That wasn't good as back home my friends and loved ones were facing a dire situation.

When I'd destroyed the Red Court of Vampires I hadn't thought past that present moment, thought through the long-term consequences of wiping out the entire Red Court. They were one of the major supernatural nations in the world. They controlled a continent, South and most of Central America, and had holdings all over the world. They owned property, stocks, corporations and accounts. They as much owned some governments. They had assets of every kind. The value of what the Red Court had controlled was almost literally incalculable. And I had thrown it all up in the air and declared one giant game of finders, keepers.

The power vacuum had every two-bit power and second rat organizations in the supernatural world seeing a chance to found an empire. Chicago had managed to stave off the worst of it so far thanks to my friends and the resident criminal organizations, Baron John Marcone and the White Court of Vampires. But things weren't looking too good for them in long run. The sooner I got back and cleaned up the mess I'd made, the better.

My train of thought was interrupted by Leandra offering me my share of lunch.

"I know it not much," she said apologetically, handing me some strips of meat, bread and a water canteen. "But we need to ration the little supplies we have left since we don't possess the coin to buy more. Hopefully Gamlen will arrive before we run out."

"Are you sure he'll be able to help?" I asked between bites of food. "You say he's a noble but Captain Ewald seems to know him instead as a moneyless weasel."

"I don't know," she answered, a hint of worried in her tone. "My family, the Amell's, are one of the most wealth nobles in the city. Well, at least they were when I left."

I eyed her plain clothes. "I'm guessing you didn't take that wealth with you when you left."

Her expression turned bitter. "When I eloped with Malcolm instead of marrying Comte Guillaume de Launcet like my parents wanted, they threw me out without a silver to my name. And I've lost it all now. Everything. My parents, my home, Malcolm. It's all gone."

I understand her feeling of loss. My apartment where I'd lived hadn't been much more than a big room in the basement of a century-old wooden boarding-house. It wasn't much of a place, but it was the only home I had, and I was comfortable there. But it, along with practically all my worldly possessions, were burned to ashes by the Eebs, a vampire assassin couple.

"I know how much Lothering meant to mother, but we haven't lost everything. There's still the estate here in Kirkwall," Bethany reassured her.

"And remember that you still have the most important thing. Your family." I reminded her

The bitterness faded from her face. "You're right," she agreed. Her voice warmed then and she smiled at me."And its thanks to you that I still have all my children. Nothing I can say would ever be enough to convey my gratitude for saving my Caver."

I felt my cheeks heat up. "Yeah, well. There no need to make a big deal out of it."

She let out a soft chuckled. "You know, you're much the same as my husband. I don't mean how you're a mage like him but in personality. No matter the situation, be it good or ill, he never let an opportunity for humour pass. Always taming the shadows with questionable wit."

I gave a lopsided grin. "Quick of wit and mouthing off at inappropriate moments, that's me. But could you stop referring to me as mage and use wizard instead."

Bethany frowned in puzzlement. "Wizard? I've never heard of such term before. Is that what mages are called where you are from?"

"It is."

"And where exactly are you from?" Caver wanted to know.

I briefly considered revealing that I was actually from another world, but then I decided against it. It wasn't that I didn't trust them but because I doubted they would believe me. I didn't have any real proof, no way to prove my claim. It would just sound like the ramblings of a crazy person. I wasn't keen on being hauled off to a lunatic asylum. Best to play it safe and just lie for now.

"Um. I'm from... a distant land across the sea." Which was the truth. Sort of.

"But that would mean you're from the unexplored lands beyond Thedas." Aveline exclaimed, looking surprised.

Everyone else's expressions shared similar a look. "Well, that explains your strange accent and why you didn't know what a darkspawn was, unlike everyone else in Thedas," Hawke said. "And here I figured you were just simple."

"The only one here who's simple is you," Caver said.

"You're just jealous of my rugged good looks," Hawke shot back.

"Right, because women must find your beard and face paint irresistible," Caver replied sarcastically.

"They do indeed," he agreed, evidently choosing to ignore his sarcasm. "It's a shame that the same can't be said about you though seeing as that red-headed Orlesian lay sister he'd been mooning after wasn't interested."

Caver face went crimson with rage. "You miserable piece of shi—"

"Carver!" Leandra snapped, cutting him off. "Do not use that kind of language in my presence."

"Whoa now, Caver. I was only teasing," Hawke said, raisings his hands before himself placatingly. "I know you're still sore about it but the fact is that you just weren't her type."

"Oh, and I suppose you are?" Caver snarled.

Hawke grinned mischievous. "I'm not actually. But Bethany is."

"What!?" Bethany cried, her face flushing pink at what Hawke was implying.

As the siblings went on harassing and teasing each other —with their mother trying to kept it from getting too out of hand— I asked Aveline to tell me all that she could about Thedas.

"I got a better idea," she said, reaching into her backpack and with drawing a thick leather-bound book. On its cover was a black symbol of the sun with an eye in it centre. She handed it to me. "Here, it's a codex. It's a collection of entries about the lore, creatures, people and places of Thedas."

"Thanks Aveline, this is just what I need to start making sense of this place." Doing my best to ignore the arguing voices of the Hawkes, I opened the codex and started reading.

* * *

><p>I sighed and finally shut the codex, giving up on reading any further. It was night now which made it too difficult to making out any of the words. Being the Winter Knight came with a lot of perks, like increased magical muscle and physical toughness, but night vision wasn't one of them. You think it would be seeing as Mab is the queen of Air and <em>Darkness<em>.

I could have call forth light but that might of woken the others. I glanced at them and saw that the Hawkes had made themselves as comfortable as possible on the flagstones and were already fast asleep. Aveline however was still awake, staring up at the night sky from where she rested against the fortress wall next to me. Her usually bright green eyes were now dull and weary. No. Her eyes weren't weary. They were haunted. There could be only one cause for that look. Wesley.

"Can't sleep?" I asked in a low voice so to not wake the others.

She twitched one shoulder in what might have been a shrug.

"I can solve that if you want. I know a spell that can give you a dreamless sleep," I offered.

"That is tempting, but I'm fine," she lied.

"Aveline, look. I'm sure that …that things will work out. I know how you're hurting, how you must feel, but—"

"Do you?" she asked quietly. "Do you know how I feel? Did you have to kill the person you love so they wouldn't have turned into monster?"

I sat quietly for a full minute before I said, "Yeah. I did."

"What happened?"

"Where I'm from we have creatures know as Red Court Vampires. The Red Court vampires are slimy bat-like creatures that live off the blood of humans and are capable of infecting humans with their vampire traits. The woman I loved, Susan, was infect by them. Though she was still human, technically, she'd been given their thirst for blood. If she ever sated it, she would transform all the way into one of them. Some part of her would die, and she would be one of the monsters, body and soul."

"I take it that she ended up...?"

I tried not to cry. I willed myself not to with all of my years of training and experience and self-discipline. "Yes. For years she was able to resisted the temptation but when a person she had trusted betrayed her, she lost control and killed him."

"And you were forced to kill her lest she become one of them," she said with great empathy in her voice. She looked at me and something like gratitude touched her eyes. "Thank you for sharing this with me. I know that it must have pained you to do so."

I gave her a wan smile."Just wanted you to know that I understand what you're going through."

"It's a comfort knowing that someone does. It makes me feel like I'm not alone in this," she said, heavy eyes closing.

I sat back against the fortress wall, stretching my legs out ahead of me, leaning my head back and closed my eyes. "Same here."

* * *

><p>"It's been three days. This waiting has to end," Aveline said as she paced back and forth in frustration.<p>

"I'm sure it won't be much longer. Gamlen must still be looking for us!" Leandra assured her.

"And if he's not?"

"Wait," Hawke interrupted, straightening from where he had been leaning against a statue pedestal and turning to face the portcullis. "I think someone's coming."

A man had come through the portcullis and was looking around in search of someone. "Leandra!" he called out, as he spotted us. "Damn, girl, the years haven't been kind to you."

"Gamlen!" Leandra cry out in relief. She flinging her arms around him in a firm hug.

So this was Gamlen. He was pale, a little taller than Leandra and was sporting a five o'clock shadow. His hair was that kind of salt-and-pepper colour which he kept swept back away from his dark blue eyes. For one of the wealthiest noble in Kirkwall he was dressed rather plainly. He wore a green and yellow checkered shirt underneath a faded leather waistcoat. The bottoms of his grey pants were tucked into knee length boots.

"Let me say up front, I wasn't expecting this. The Blight, your husband dead... I'd, ah, figured you'd pretty much be Fereldan for life."

"Oh, Gamlen. Our home in Fereldan is gone, destroyed by the darkspawn. You have to help us. We don't have anywhere else to go."

Gamlen sighed. "Oh, Marker save me. Leandra, don't go put all of your hopes in me. I don't even know if I can help you get in."

"Would it help if I said you were my favourite uncle?" Hawke asked.

"It'd make me feel better, but that's about it," Gamlen replied with a chuckle. "You see, I was hoping to grease some palms, but the knight-commander's been cracking down. We're going to need more grease."

"But... what about estate?" Leandra asked. "Surely Father left something when he died."

"Right, about the estate... It's, uh, gone. To settle a debt. I've been meaning to write to you," Gamlen said apologetically.

Translation: I've gambled away the entire family fortune.

Seems like Captain Ewald description of him was pretty accurate.

"Well, waiting for you was a waste of time seeing as you can't help us," I said bluntly.

"I am blighted helping!" He protested. "I've got two offers of work from people who've got the coin to open those gates... if you're not too delicate about the company you keep."

"Do we need to stay in Kirkwall? Can't we try another city?" Hawke suggested.

Gamlen shook his head. "Every city on the coast's been hip-deep in Fereldan since the Blight. You could try your luck further inland, I suppose. But it won't be easy."

"No. We're not putting mother through that," Bethany said.

"I agree. We came here, we're staying here," Caver added.

Hawke sighed. "Let's hear it then, Uncle. What do you have in mind?"

"Like I said before, I found some people who might be willing to pay your way into the city. The catch is that you three have to work off the debt. For a year."

"A year!" Leandra exclaimed.

"It's the best I could do!" Gamlen said defensively. "Trust me when I say a bunch of refugees won't get a better anywhere else."

"So you're selling us into indentured servitude? That's your idea?" Hawke asked incredulously.

"Think of it as having a job waiting for you in your new home!" He answered with faux cheerfulness.

"Wonderful," Bethany commented, deadpan.

"I managed to convince my contacts, Meeran and Athenril, to come to the Gallows to meet you personally. Either one of them can help you. All you need to do is find them in the courtyard and convince them you're worth the trouble," Gamlen explained. "Meeran heads up the mercenary company, the Red Iron. They're looking for recruits. As for Athenril... I guess you might call her a smuggler."

"Oh Gamlen, I don't know about this," Leandra fretted.

"It's a lot of coin, Leandra. Don't go expecting our name to carry the kind of weight it used to," Gamlen informed her bluntly.

"And what of Aveline and me?" I inquired. "Are your contacts going to pay for us too?"

Aveline frowned. "I will not allow others to incur debts on my behalf."

Gamlen shrugged. "Can't see that it makes a difference. You both look like you who can pull your own weight."

"Then you come with us." Leandra decided.

My first instinct was to refuse their offer but that was just my pride talking. I doubt that there would be anyone else who'd be willing to cover the cost of getting me into the city. Damn, but I hate to swallow my pride.

"I...have no real option. Thank you." Aveline said.

"I'll find some work and help with paying off your debt," I promised the Hawke siblings.

Hawke nodded his thanks. "I'll hold you to that."

"Which one are we looking for?" Caver asked his brother.

"Athenril," he answered.

"I would have thought that someone like you would have chosen to be a mercenary rather than a smuggler," I said, curious about his choice.

Bethany rolled her eyes. "It's because the smuggler is a woman."

"That not true, Bethany," Hawke protested, his expression aggrieved. "I figured that mother more at ease if we did the less dangerous line of work."

We left Gamlen and Leandra to wait and proceeded down the stairs into the courtyard. At the bottom of them was Captain Ewald, occupied his usually post. "So that was your uncle, was it? Good. I thought he was another confidence man trying to sell promises. I don't suppose he has the coin you'll need to get in."

"He had some ideas." Hawke replied.

He hmmed thoughtfully. "They always do. If it were just up to me, I'd let you through. But there are a lot of eyes watching, a lot of palms that need greasing. My suggestion, wait for a ship and hope the next city hasn't already closed their doors."

"We'll take that under advisement," I said. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to known where we find a woman called Athenril? She meant to be somewhere here in the courtyard."

"Athenril. Yes, I know where she." He pointed. "She's the elvish woman over there, lurking in the far corner of the courtyard."

"Thanks." We made our way over to where Captain Ewald had indicated. Loitering there were three elves.

According to the codex Aveline had given to me, they use to be an immortal and magically talented race that lived in harmony with the natural world. They were friendly with humans at first, but soon discovered that exposure to the human caused the elves to age and die themselves. In fear, the elves withdrew from human contact. The Tevinter Imperium, a nation ruled by mages, viewed the elves' isolation with hostility. They declared war on the elves and enslaved them. After their fall to the Tevinter Imperium and generations of slavery, the elves had not only lost their immortality but most of their cultural heritage and identity as well. Currently, their few numbers have been scattered all over Thedas, living in either forests as primitive nomads or in cities as impoverished outcasts.

The three elves were shorter than the average human, had slender, lithe build and pointed ears. There were two males and one female which had to be Athenril.

She had light brown hair that was tied up in a bun, except for the fringe, which was framed around her emerald coloured eyes. She was dressed in armour, which consisted of a shirt of tightly woven overlapping leather straps, with green shoulder guards and leggings, fashioned to resembled the leaves of a tree. She didn't wear any shoes, instead choosing to go barefoot. Her slender arms were covered by a dull grey cloth, on top of which she had strapped a pair of silver bracers decorated with leafy vines carvings to her forearms. Buckled to her slim waist was a large knife.

"Athenril, my name is Hawke and I believe that my uncle spoke to you about getting us into the city." Hawke said.

"You must be Gamlen's nephew. Interesting," Athenril said, eyeing Hawke."I don't know what he told you about us, but he certainly told us a great deal about you."

"He didn't say anything about me, did he?" Bethany asked worriedly.

"Enough to pique our interest, provided you can justify your uncle's confidence."

"I'd like to know about what we'd be doing for you," Hawke said.

"I can be honest. We don't compete with the thieves' guild," Ahenril admitted. "But we keep our fingers in a lot of pots. That said, we're not killers or slavers. Anything short of that, however, is fair game."

Her stance eerily reflected a similar one held be Baron John Marconi. While Marconi, unlike Athenril, didn't mind have people killed, he would not tolerate any harm befalling a child. Rumour has it that he had vanished anyone in his organisation who had.

"Do what you want," Aveline told Hawke. "But this sounds fishy to me."

"We can't afforded to be choosy," Bethany reminded her

"Get us into the city can't be cheap," Caver stated.

"If you're as good your uncle claims, we're hoping you'll be worth it." Athenril smiled at us. "After all, it's not every day we're offered an apostate's services."

"It appears our uncle likes to talk," Bethany said, annoyed.

"The templars in Kirkwall like to think they have all mages properly leashed, but when has that ever been true? We can keep them from taking notice while you're with us. Wouldn't be the first time," Athenril assured her.

"Alright then, tell me what you need done," Hawke said.

Atheril gestured, indicating for him to come closer to avoid being over heard. "There's a merchant named Cavril. Friend of the templars, so they let him set up his little shop here in the Gallows. We supplied him in return for a piece of the take, but now he won't pay up. We can't go near him without him screaming for the guards— but you can. Get our money for him and you're in."

* * *

><p>Cavril's shop was set up next to a tall statue in the back corner of the courtyard. Behind a pair of tables displaying a number of staffs, stood a richly dressed bald head man flanked by a pair of armed thugs, arguing with a tired looking woman.<p>

The bald man, who had to be Cavril, was saying to the woman, "I already told you. I can't give you any more for them!"

"But that was everything we have!" the woman protested. "It's all we brought with us!"

"And I feel for you, serah, but it's the best I can do," he said, turned his back on her. He didn't sounding the least bit sympathetic.

"If they just let us into the city, I could get three times that price!" she told him.

Cavril sighed. "Myron?"

One of the thug approached the woman and loomed over her menacingly. "Your business is done," he informed the woman in a rough voice.

"But..." the woman started to protest but then gives up with sad sigh of defeat.

I felt hot, seething anger run through me. These people had lost practically everything. Their home, their loved ones, and instead of helping them, this man choose to swindle them of what little they had left.

Hawke notice my angry and signalled to me discreetly with his hand to just wait moment. As soon as the woman had dejectedly left the store, Cavril swung back around and focus his attention on us.

"Now then!" he said brightly. "What can I do for you, serah?"

"I believe you owe your business partners something?" Hawke said, wasting no time in getting straight to the point.

Cavril's cheery business manner vanished. "Oh... I see."

"Should I go tell the guards?" the thug called Myron asked.

Cavril held up his hand. "Not just yet. I want to hear this." He regarded Hawke with a cool gaze. "So Athenril sent you to collect, did she? Too cowardly to do it herself?"

"Care to step in, here?" Hawke asked me.

Looks like Hawke intents for me to do to Cavril what his thug Myron just did to that woman. "It would be my pleasure."

I walked up to Carvil till we were barely centimetres apart. I let cold stone flow into the features of my face, into the timbre of my voice. "Carvil. Either you pay what you owe or I do to you what Jabba the Hutt did to Han Solo."

Carvil swallowed nervously. "Ah... And what did this 'Jabba' do?"

With an inaudible muttered "_Infriga",_ I drew away the heat in the vicinity around me. The temperature plummeted dramatically and the courtyard flagstones around me became covered in glittering ice. "He had him frozen solid and put on display as a warning to others."

"Stay back! Just... take what's in the chest. Take it all," he offered quickly in panic.

Hawke went over to the chest and began rummaging around inside of it.

"Now I'm getting out of here. Let those guards find someone else to buy dog-land junk." Carvil fumed as he left the store, followed by his two thugs.

Hawke stood up, finished with emptying the chest of all its contents. "I've got Antheril money. Let's get it back and hope that this will have proven our worth to her."

We returned to where Antheril was waiting for us. "Here you go, as requested," Hawke said, handing her the money.

"Will you look at that," she said, sounding impressed. "Tell your uncle we'll make the arrangements. Welcome aboard."

* * *

><p>"Any luck?" Gamlen inquired.<p>

"Yes, Athenril has agreed to help us," Hawke answered.

"I'll speak to her and see when the bribes can be made. Wait here," Gamlen instructed, before hurrying off.

"I guess we did it," Caver said. "We're here to stay, at least for a while."

"Well, we're off to a fantastic start. Let's see what else this city has in store for us," Hawke said cheerily.

As I gaze at what was visible of the city of Kirkwall beyond the Gallow, I had a ominous feeling that whatever this city had in store for us, it wouldn't be good.

* * *

><p><strong>Omake: Party <strong>**Dialogue**

Caver: Why did you come to Thedas? Is because you're an apostate seeking refuge from your country's templars?

Harry: For the last time Caver, I am not an apostate. And it wasn't my choice to come here.

Caver: So, you were forced to leave your home. Like how we were due to the blight?

Harry: No, that not it either. I, ah... fell overboard while on my brother's boat.

Caver: (laughs) You fell overboard? That why you're here? Talk about bad luck.

Harry: Ending up here isn't really bad luck. It was a lot better than the alternative.


End file.
